Page 51 - An Australian Lassie

Betty's lip quivered. She was beginning to be afraid--or rather she was afraid.

"T-- T just wanted to see a book," she said.

"And what book did you just want to see?"

He took the magazine from her and noticed two things--how her hand shook and how bravely her eyes met
his.

His glance wandered over the open page, and a wonderment came to him what there was here to interest such
a child.

The next second the fatal question was on his lips.

"And what is your name?" he asked.

Betty's lips moved, but no sound left them. She just sat dumbly there gazing into her grandsire's face.

The old man sat down on the pink bonnet. He was not in the least anxious over her name. She was a
schoolmate of John's, of course; he had often stumbled over these active eager little creatures in the back yard,
in the near paddock, by the emus' run, near the pigeon-boxes, on the staircase. Only hitherto they had been of
John's own sex. This pretty little nervous girl interested him.

He drew her magazine towards him.

"We're waiting for the name--aren't we, Jack?" he said.

Then Betty realized that her hour was indeed come. She rose to her feet and stood in front of him gulping
down a few hard breaths.

"T--T didn't come to get us adopted this time," she quavered.

"Eh?" said Captain Carew. He spoke dully, yet the faintest glimmerings of light were beginning to break on
him. Her attitude, something familiar in her voice, her height and shining curly head brought that evening to
his mind, when she had owned to an intention of wishing to frighten him. A slow anger stirred him, anger
against this child, her parents, and himself.

"Your name!" he said harshly.

And at the sound of his own voice his anger grew. His lip thrust itself out when he had spoken, and his whole
face wore its hardest, most unlovely look.

"Your name, girl?"

And Betty hesitated no longer. Her only point of pride at this age lay in assuming bravery whether she had it
or not. "We Bruces are afraid of no one," being her favourite speech, and as inspiriting to her as the sound of
the war-drum to a warrior bold.

She stood straight and her brown eyes looked straight into his brown eyes.

"Elizabeth Bruce," she said.